The Book of Embers
by TheKingRaven
Summary: A story about the Guardian and his fireteam set between the events of Forsaken and Shadowkeep. A/N: There is a lot of head canon in here mixed with actual lore just as a heads up.
1. A Hunter Named Drenn

**The Book of Embers:**

**Chapter One - A Hunter Named Drenn**

_[The Tangled Shore]_

The Hunter stared down at the rocky clearing filled with abominations made by corrupted ether and eldritch magic. Her job was simple; find the group of Scorn that had captured one of the Spider's Servitors, kill them and recover the Servitor.

She'd found the Servitor, or what was left of it, mangled and dissected and drained of the life-giving ether it provided to the Fallen. It was still strange to see the Scorn destroying a Servitor; the Fallen revered the large floating metal spheres.

"I'm picking up an ether signature that matches the traces of the one we found on the Servitor remains," her Ghost's synthesized voice echoed inside of her helmet. "These are definitely the Scorn we're after." The angular ball of metal and light appeared beside her and peered over at the group, its' single blue eye studying the monstrosities below.

"Good to know, Ash; saves me from having to kill all the Scorn on this slab of lifeless rock." She slid back down from her perch on the small outcropping above the Scorned camp.

"You already know what I'm going to say, Kevera, so I'll just keep my head down until the shooting is over," Ash muttered.

Kevera Drenn paid her tiny companion little mind. Things had been - tense between them ever since Crimson had entered the picture. It was a bit more ornate now than what it had been when she'd first created the weapon, a gilded lily instead of a stained thorn. It was the weapon she now wielded in the aftermath of the Red War, something she'd created as a last resort to prevent a final death should she ever lose her Light again. The gun had the power to heal, but only through much death.

That was what had started the tension between her and her Ghost. The tiny, palm-sized AI had no problems with her killing Fallen or Vex or Cabal en masse before she'd had this gun, but now, with what it viewed as an abomination, Ash felt it was dishonorable.

Kevera didn't see it that way. It was a safeguard: maybe not one that was going to win her points with her fellow Guardians, and it sure as hell hadn't won her any favors from the Vanguard, but she just didn't care.

She swung open the chamber of the weapon and placed a fresh charge into it. Twenty-four shots at a three round burst. Eight shots in all. No need for more.

"What's my best time?" She tossed out at her Ghost in a casual tone, only to be answered by an exasperated sigh.

"You realize you're only competing with _yourself_, right?" Ash said back; he sighed again, a frustrated grunt, before mumbling, "Your quickest engagement with the Scorn was twenty-five-point-five seconds."

"Betcha I can clear this group in fifteen!" she grinned as she smoothly twirled the gun. There was a second of silence as the Ghost did the math and went over all the images it had recorded of the group a moment earlier.

"Alright, I'll take that bet," he said.

Kevera backed up a few paces before making a running start towards the cliff edge.

_Twenty-four bullets, three rounds per trigger pull, eight shots total per cartridge…._

The math and calculations were an afterthought at this point. Vaulting over the Scorn, she squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times. Stalkers dropped like stringless puppets, leaking the corrupted ether that fueled their undead bodies.

_Five shots left..._

Kevera spun in a nimble circle as soon as her feet hit the ground, spattering the quartet of Stalkers that rushed at her with deathly pulses. She felt her muscles grow taut with stolen energies; it was an interesting sensation she hadn't yet grown used to.

"Behind you!"

At the last possible instant, she ducked the vicious swing of a ravager's flaming censer. By the size of the beast, it had to be the leader of the group of Scorn; unfortunately, it was down to just him and Kevera now. Easy odds for any Hunter.

Kevera spun once more, ejecting the spent cartridge and slotting in a new one in a single, deft motion. She came to a stop behind the ravager and before the abominable thing could even turn to take another swing at her, Kevera emptied Crimson into his back.

Dropping the second spent cartridge to the ground, the Hunter reloaded her weapon before spinning the gun in her hand once more and holstering it. "Not such a bad day's work in my opinion," she said as her Ghost materialized beside her.

Something seemed _off_ to the Ghost.

"Kevera there is no way that these-" Ash began.

Something like blue flames shot up out of the ground behind the pair, causing them both to turn and see more Scorn. Stalkers, ravagers, those damnable lurkers that carried those impervious bucklers that she hated so much. The reinforcements took pause when they saw what had happened to their clanmates.

The final two things to step out of the flames were the biggest of the Scorn in this particular group. One was definitely the commander, a giant Scorned Chieftain carrying an equally impressive Scorch Cannon on one of its four arms. Beside it was a creature akin to a Hive Ogre. an Abomination.

Kevera eyed the new, considerably larger group of foes, and let out a quiet "Huh," as they roared and charged her.

"Kevera..." Ash warned.

The Hunter took in a steady intake of breath and felt the power of her Light flow through her body; tendrils of solar energy flowed out across her body and into the blades Kevera gripped in her hands.

She shut her eyes and felt the ground beneath her boots tremble as the Scorn charged her. _In… out..._

"_Kevera._"

_In… out..._

"_KEVERA!_"

She opened her eyes, she leapt up, over the heads of the mob of Scorn; twisting through the air, Kevara hurled the supercharged knives into the front two lines of Scorned, the blades detonating on impact, such was the might of her Light. Curling into a recovery roll, she reached behind her cloak and detached a swarm grenade from her belt.

Dropping the explosive into the ranks of the Scorned she'd just passed, she listened as it splintered into several smaller tracking explosives, the eponymous swarm that sought out the nearest targets. Lurkers and stalkers shot upwards into the air before disappearing into tiny sparks of Solar energy. Kevera sprinted towards the other Scorn, firing as she ran. Corpses dropped in her wake.

At Crimson's _klckk,_ Kevera palmed her last throwing knife and went to work, slashing and hacking in a fluid dance, like a python working its way up toward its prey's head. The chieftain roared, and the Abomination moved forward with its slow, lumbering footsteps. Gesturing with its grotesque arms, dual streaks of lightning lanced out at her, blowing craters in the rocks beside and in front of her.

Kevera dived toward the nearest cover, reloading Crimson and readying another swarm grenade. It wasn't going to do much against the Abomination, certainly wouldn't kill it in one go, but it would buy her some time to get into a proper position for the kill shot. She hurled the grenade towards the Abomination; as expected, it broke apart and sought out the creature with its tiny drones, yet they only disoriented the thing.

Launching herself into the air again, she kicked the Abomination squarely in its' chest and unloaded Crimson into the area where its' face, for lack of a better word, was. The shots staggered the creature, and Kevera flipped through the air again, hitting it with her feet as she made a graceful arc through the air and reloaded once more. The Abomination fell onto its back and remained there, unmoving. Kevera then turned towards the Chieftain, who just stood there looking rather uncertain - or at least she thought it did; she couldn't exactly tell with that mask covering half its' face.

She knew what it was going to do before the horror even did it. The creature sunk down into a pool of blue flames, vanishing from sight. Technically. The problem with the Scorn method of retreat was that there was a streak of corrupted Ether that followed their retreat path, and they couldn't maintain that way of travel for very long. It was easy for Kevera to predict where the creature was going to resurface; thus she simply raised her hand cannon.

Her Light channeled down her arm, glowing a brilliant orange and infusing Crimson with burning energy, turning it into a far more deadly weapon. She lined up her gun with the path of the flames and when the Chieftain reappeared, she unleashed all six shots of pure solar energy, ripping through the Chieftain like paper ; the big alien hit the ground dead. Permanently.

The solar energy faded away, but instead of feeling tired and drained for the amount of exertion that the use of two supers should have brought on, Crimson's regenerating effects made her feel just as energized as she ever was. "What was my time?" she said casually as she flourished Crimson once again before holstering it and straightening the hood around her helmet.

"Twenty-two seconds." Ash said in a rather flat tone as he reappeared. He didn't like this competitive state his Guardian had fallen into since creating that infernal hand cannon. Having a Ghost that could revive her after any death, on top of having a gun that healed her injuries after a successful kill, was making her _far_ bolder than she'd already been, and he worried that was going to catch up with her at some point.

"It was that damn Abomination," she grunted. "If it hadn't been there, I could have definitely done it in nineteen."

"I think we've done enough here for one day," Ash suggested. "We should go see Spider about our reward." If there was one thing he was sure of about Hunters, it was that the offer of some kind of treasure or loot was sure to gain their attention.

"Right, let's go and pay that old, bloated Fallen crime lord a visit," Kevera said as Ash summoned her Sparrow from their ship in orbit around the Shore. "He better not try and stiff me for not being able to save the Servitor."


	2. Two Titans and a Warlock

**Chapter Two:**

**Two Titans and a Warlock walk into a Ramen Shop**

_[The Last City, Earth]_

Toldryn Black had lived an interesting life as a Guardian of the Last City, to say the least. He'd fought his way into the Black Garden and stopped the Vex from raising the Darkness before traversing the depths of the fabled Vault of Glass and ending the Conflux of Time, Atheon, there. He'd battled the Hive godprince Crota in the heart of his own throneworld deep within the Moon only to have to fight Crota's father, Oryx, the Taken King and his tainted army not too long thereafter.

To most that would have seemed impressive enough, but it wasn't even the start. When the Cabal had attacked the Last City, Toldryn had been the one Guardian to have his Light returned. He'd been chosen by the Traveler to reunite the Vanguard and bring an end to Ghaul's invasion. Then, months later, he'd gone to Mars, put an end to a bloody _Worm God_ and simultaneously re-established contact with the primary node of Rasputin, the last Warmind .

To many people in the city, Black had become _the_ Guardian, the Titan who made the impossible possible. Anyone else would have let it go to their head, but Toldryn managed to keep himself grounded.

Even though he'd received the credit for the majority of those deeds, he hadn't done it all alone. He hadn't stormed the The Vault of Glass or the Hellmouth by himself; he hadn't faced Oryx or Xol alone.

He'd had his fireteam.

Yisar Koll, a mighty Awoken Striker with a fondness for channeling his Light into himself and flinging himself at his enemies like an electric missile that evaporated everything in its blast radius. Yisar was one of Toldryn's closest friends and had proved himself as a champion of the Crucible, and the Iron Banner in particular. He'd been there to help Lord Saladin during the SIVA Crisis a year before the outbreak of the Red War and had earned the title of Young Wolf, First of the new Iron Lords; it was something he took _very_ seriously.

Then there was Hamat-8, a quiet Warlock who kept to his books. After the reclamation of the Ishtar Archive on Venus years prior, Hamat had spent most of his time with the Cryptarchs stationed there, pouring over the long-lost Golden Age information stored in that place. Hamat had also had the good fortune, depending on who in the City you asked, of meeting the Legendary Warlock Osiris after a mishap on Mercury with Panoptes, the Infinite Mind.

Then there was the loner of the group, Kevera Drenn. Toldryn hadn't heard from her since they'd helped Yisar finish off the SIVA-infused Devil Splicers in the Plaguelands. The rumor running about the Tower had it pegged that she'd taken up with the Dead End Cure shortly before Gaul's invasion.

There had been others over the years who rotated in and out of the group, but at the core it had been those three that had helped Toldryn when he needed it, and vice versa. Toldryn's latest adventure had been one a bit more significantly emotional though, and he'd decided to go it alone.

There was a fine line between justice and revenge, and Toldryn didn't want to drag his friends into his hunt for Uldren and his Scorned Barons. It had been a long ordeal, and it put him in an interesting place with the Awoken, even though their particular brand of magic and cunning made him uneasy at times. He'd spent time in the Dreaming City for a while, but the curse that was on that place was above him for the moment. Whenever Petra figured out what was causing it, he'd go back and put every bullet he could into it.

For now, it was good to just be home again. It seemed to have done Watcher some good as well. Toldryn had named his Ghost as such since it aptly described the floating AI; it was always watching everything around them and alerted him to hostile forces long before Toldryn could lay eyes on them.

Right now, Watcher was off floating around the City and observing things; he wondered if the "little Light" was meeting up with other Ghosts and trading battle stories. The things gossiped about as much as Guardians did. Toldryn had decided to take in a Crucible match or two and had found himself being roped into participating in one by Yisar. Toldryn always loved the Rumble match ups, free-for-alls that pitted the best of the best against each other; this time, Toldryn had bested his friend.

Before returning to the Tower, Toldryn had come into possession of a hand cannon that was iconic among Guardians, particularly Titans and Hunters: The Last Word. It was not just a remake or a cheap knock-off, either; his was the real deal, handed down to him by the renegade Shin Malphur himself. Toldryn had the letters to back it up as well as confirmation from Tex Mechanica, the foundry that had created the weapon for Jaren Ward all those centuries ago.

Toldryn was good with Hand Cannons; he didn't have that innate skill and style that Hunters seemed to be risen with, but his aim was solid enough to impress most of his cloak-wearing counterparts, and wielding the Last Word was a responsibility that Toldryn was certain he was prepared to shoulder. He'd upgraded it though and had the smiths at Tex Mechanica give it a modern makeover more to his liking.

The Last Word had stopped Yisar dead in his tracks during their tussle, and Yisar _wasn't_ happy about it.

"It was a lucky shot; that thing _has_ to be a knock-off," he grumbled to Toldryn as they sat in the back of a ramen shop that Black had visited once or twice with Cayde before the Hunter Vanguard was murdered by the fallen prince, Uldren Sov.

Toldryn grinned and shook his head. "Hey, it beat you and your Wishbringer. That's what you get when you try to slide in and attempt to rearrange my face with a shotgun."

"Yeah well, you cost me a lot of glimmer today," Yisar said, extended a large gauntleted hand toward Toldryn. "Let me see that damn thing."

Toldryn handed over the weapon to the other Titan before turning his attention to the third guardian at the table. "So, you met Osiris?" He asked his Warlock companion.

Hamat's Ghost materialized between the pair. "Yes and it was… uhh... well, I honestly can't remember much of it. Sagira - Osiris's Ghost - possessed me for a while." Hamat's Ghost was named Pandora, and more often than not, she did the talking for her overly-robotic Guardian. Toldryn rather liked Pandora; she was an outspoken thing, very much the opposite of Hamat.

"I bet you didn't take too kindly to that," Toldryn grinned.

Pandora arranged her shell in a manner that gave off a feeling of grumpiness. It never ceased to amaze Toldryn how expressive Ghosts could be even though they didn't have faces… or arms. Or hands. Or appendages of _any_ kind, for that matter.

"No, I didn't," she said. "I'm still sorting through all the data that Sagira left in my system. At least it's all useful information that I can use next time we face the Vex. It is _fascinating_, both the capabilities they have and what Osiris believes they can accomplish."

"Don't know if 'fascinating' is the word I'd use," Toldryn said. Being deleted from a timeline wasn't exactly something he wanted to witness or experience firsthand, so he avoided the Vex when he could.

"That's because you're a Titan and prefer headbutting things as opposed to using your head for _other_ things" Hamat said without looking up from what he was reading.

"Was that a joke?" Yisar wondered aloud, handing back The Last Word to Toldryn. "Did pointy-ears here make an _actual_ attempt at _humor_?!"

"I believe he did," Pandora said.

"This curse on the Dreaming City… it's interesting." Hamat said without even acknowledging the trio. "The fact that there's a Taken Vex Mind behind this is beyond terrifying, and the fact that you interacted with _Toland the Shattered..._ you've been _busy_, my friend!"

It was more words than Toldryn could ever remember Hamat saying in one breath to him before. It wasn't shocking, though; after all, Hamat was reading through all of the reports that Black had submitted to the Vanguard upon his return.

"A Vex Mind with the power to Take like Oryx did, as well as control the timestream... no, thanks." Yisar said. "That's something we should nip in the bud sooner than later."

"Well I'm sure when the Vanguard sends me to deal with it, you two will tag along, just like you always do," Toldryn laughed.

Watcher came zooming into the shop and hovered over the table, giving a little dip of acknowledgement in the air towards Pandora. "Guardian, Commander Zavala wishes to speak with you. He says it is urgent."

Toldryn sighed and stood up. "See, that's what you get for being the Chosen One."

Yisar grinned as he watched his friend leave the restaurant, then turned his head back towards the Warlock. "So. you know he got lucky with that shot on me earlier, right?"


	3. Reckless

**Chapter Three: **

**Reckless**

_[The Dreaming City]_

The Taken Ogre reared backwards as the stream of Arc Light impacted it square in the center of its misshapen head before it erupted in a blast of dark energy. Ariadne's fingertips crackled with the strength of her Light as she scanned the area for more threats. With the death of the massive Ogre, the rest of the Taken seemed to have receded for now. Not that it mattered; they'd be back thanks to the Curse. The Warlock floated down from the landing she'd been standing on to where a small Ghost was hovering and flashing with Light. There was a gasp as a Hunter sprang up from where she had been killed by the swarm of Taken Thrall.

"Hey, we won!" Adolin said cheerfully as she hopped up to her feet and straightened out her cloak's clasp.

"Despite your best efforts," Ariadne said flatly. "Throwing yourself to the Thrall was reckless and dangerous."

"Oh, come on, don't give me that tired old Warlock speech." Adolin said with a wave of her gloved hand as she picked up her bow from the ground. "As long as we have our Ghost, we're fine."

"Did losing your Light not teach you anything?!" Ariadne said in a harsh tone. "What if those Taken had destroyed your Ghost before it could revive you? Did you even _think_ of that?"

"If I hadn't done it, then we _both_ would have been screwed," Adolin countered. "I drew the thrall away so you could deal with the Ogre. You should be _thanking_ me, if anything."

Ariadne shook her head. She now knew why the Vanguard had saddled her with this newly-risen Awoken. Even among Hunters, Adolin was brash and fearless, using her Light more like a _toy_ than as the sacred responsibility that it was.

"We don't use our Light like that," Ariadne repeated. "We're not meant to just throw it away like that and take it for granted. How many Guardians _died_ during the Red War to hammer that point home for the _rest_ of us?" She stared at Adolin for a few tense, silent moments before stalking away, her robes fluttering behind her.

"Petra, we cleared out the Taken infestation, but I'm sure it'll return," Ariadne's Ghost, Phox, radioed as he reappeared beside his Guardian, muttering to her "like it always does." The series of rings that rotated around his inner shell were somewhat distracting at times for the Warlock, but he liked it, so she said nothing.

"Affirmative, Guardian," Petra's voice came back. "I'm sure with your help, and the help of the other Guardians from the City, we'll break this curse yet."

_Don't get your hopes up._ Ariadne could practically hear Adolin think as they walked back to the clearing to transmat back to their ships waiting in orbit.

"Whatever you need, Petra." Ariadne said diplomatically before being beamed up to her ship by her Ghost.

"So where to now, your royal _uptightness_?" Adolin radioed over their shared comm frequency.

"Back to the Tower," Phox replied shortly. "We've got a report to file with the Vanguard." Ariadne ignored the groan that came as the reply.

Phox cut the link as both ships' FTL drives kicked in, shooting them across the system and back towards Earth and the Last City. "Why did the Vanguard give us the most abrasive and reckless Hunter ever as a partner?"

"Because they know we can guide her and turn her into a valuable asset," Ariadne responded.

There was silence from the Ghost for a few moments. "I would have preferred a Titan. At least they aren't so talkative."

_[The Tower]_

There weren't a whole lot of lounges in the Tower for Guardians who were off-duty to enjoy, but ever since the City had been reclaimed from the Red Legion, some of the old rules had been overlooked, and Guardians were mingling in the City more than ever now.

Adolin was sitting at a table at some patronless local bar; her feet were up on the tabletop, and the chair rocked backwards at a dangerous angle. "That Warlock can shove that report up her-"

"Adolin, she's just trying to help," Pixel interjected, its' 'eye' twitching in the manner by which it had been named. "Ariadne Lyn is a veteran Guardian; it wouldn't hurt for you to take some of her advice to heart."

"She's just so _stuffy,_" Adolin said, gesturing with her hands up at the dirty ceiling. "I mean, I get not 'abusing our powers' and our 'duty to the Traveler' and all that crap, but why can't we have a bit of fun with it while we're doing it?"

"Maybe because it isn't meant to be fun," a new voice said, nearly startling Adolin out of her chair. Nearly.

Catching herself, she stood up and spun to face the new voice. "I know you," she said, hand dropping down to one of her knives. "You're Kevera Drenn."

The redheaded Hunter nodded slowly as her hand rested on the grip of her abomination of a hand cannon. "Be careful what you do next, because I've got an offer for you; it'd be a shame to shoot you first and have to go look for someone else."

"An offer?" Adolin queried, her interest piqued.

"You want to have fun? Well, I've got a job for you. It's dangerous and you've got a slim chance of survival. Seems like it might be right up your alley."

Removing her hand from the knife's hilt, Adolin pulled out a chair at the table. "Alright; I'm all ears."


End file.
